The Warlord's Blade
by NihonBara
Summary: An ancient sword sends Switzerland through time and space to the Sengoku Era in Japan where he meets a Japan very different from the one he knew. Swiss/Japan A tale of love across centuries. For Miss Macabre Grey
1. Chapter 1

**The Warlord's Blade**

An ancient sword sends Switzerland through time and space to the Sengoku Era in Japan where he meets a Japan very different from the one he knew. (Swiss/Japan) A tale of love across centuries.

_This is written for the legendary Miss Macabre Grey whose tale still echoes down the corridor of Hetalia Fanfiction. All hail the Grey!_

_***ahem* Now for the actual story (warning there is strong language): **_

_These meetings are fucking pointless_.

Switzerland hated every second of sitting through them, listening to the nations squabble endlessly about stupid shit. England was the podium droning on and on. _Weren't the British supposed to be eloquent speakers? What the fuck happened with England?_

If he wasn't tired of polishing his pistol under the table - _his_ actual pistol - he wouldn't have even given the thought two seconds of consideration. If they noticed he would leave because like hell would he let them confiscate his firearms. Unlike America, he wasn't cool with that.

_Then you're boss will cut your allowance_, he reminded himself. His boss was a little fed up with all the meetings Switzerland had tried to bail on, but could they be any more pointless? He was about to claw his eyeballs out for boredom.

During some of the dullest moments, he had honestly contemplated faking his own death just so he wouldn't have to go anymore. He had the firearms collection to do it. Of course, unlike America who collected _American_ guns, Switzerland preferred the more classic collection. His were weapons from all over the world and of different ages. A collection he was rather proud of. His favorites were his _katanas_.

His green eyes flickered over to Japan at the far end of the room. Japan sat in his white military uniform feigning interest in England's speech while trying not to nod off. A small smile played on Switzerland's lips that he quickly hid. He didn't _entirely_ mind the meetings. They were his one chance to see Japan. Not that anything would ever come of it.

Switzerland was wrenched from his admiration by fingers creeping up his thigh. He cocked his gun and slowly turned to face France who flinched and retracted them, remembering _who_ is seat mate was. _Touch me again and my gun is going up your ass_, his eyes said and maybe France didn't get that message word for word, but he got the gist.

Of course, that wouldn't stop him from trying to grope Switzerland again in five minutes. _France's libido must have a death wish or something_. The craziest thing, yet amusing for Switzerland, were the times France tried to grope Ivan.

Switzerland smiled contentedly remembering Ivan tossing France upside down into a trash can. _Ah, sweet memories_.

000

When the meeting was finally over, Switzerland made a show of shuffling and re-shuffling his papers. _Just ask him_, he scolded himself. He looked over, his heart tumbling a bit as America immediately intercepted Japan and started chatting with the nation enthusiastically about some video game or anime shit.

_Goddamit America!_ He growled in his head. It wasn't fair. He had been waiting after hoping to casually invite Japan out for once and as all always America got in the fucking way.

But what pissed him off the most was what he knew was jealousy. It just wasn't fair how easily America could amble up to Japan and just chat with him about this and that. While for Switzerland it was usually a well-staged attack, that so far had never panned out.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that the only thing America ever talked to Japan about was modern stuff. _Is he oblivious to Japan's history?_ There was so much more to Japan than just his pop culture. There was a rich history of weapons, tea ceremonies, martial arts, and so many things that fascinated Switzerland. He felt he could talk forever just about Japan and yet could never bring himself to start the conversation.

He hovered by the door, walking slowly, filled with indecision. Unfortunately, America had already hooked an arm around Japan and was dragging him to the door saying, "AND we've got to try it out. It's so amazing! How about you come to my place?" Japan opened his mouth. "Great! I knew you'd see it my way. Let's get burgers and popcorn. Wanna watch movies? It'll be awesome?"

_Bastard_, Switzerland thought, his hands gripping the documents. They were just passing in front of him and he started to open his mouth to say, "_Hey Japan"_, but closed it. The words just wouldn't come. _Why can't I?_

His breath caught when Japan looked at him. Really looked at him, those cinnamon-brown eyes meeting his. There was something in them, something that spoke of feelings well-hidden behind that mask of calm expression. A look that he could only describe as _want_ and _longing_.

The moment passed and then they were out of sight, leaving Switzerland standing there. The last one in the room. He lowered his head, failure welling in his gut. _I just couldn't say it._ He never could.

OOO

After the conference, he went exploring Washington D.C. He didn't feel like going back to his lonely hotel room as always. The other nations had already broken up into their little groups, ones he had no interest in being a part of. His sister wasn't at this meeting because of "economic illnesses". That was what the nations called it so he wandered around alone.

At some point, he found himself in one of the seedier areas of Washington D.C. and was about to hail a taxi when his eyes locked onto a dimly lit pawn shop at the end of the street, it's blue neon lights flickering in the dark. Something drew him, called to him and before he knew what he was doing, he'd stepped into the grungy place.

_What the fuck am I doing?_ The human behind the counter was grungy fellow with dreadlocks and Bob Marlen shirt and baggy pants. "Wassup dude?" _Oh, fuckin God no! Not a human version of America!_

Switzerland merely grunted and went exploring the back aisle. It was the usual junk, but some of it looked actually quite historical. Some very nice pistols were in glass cases and then his breath caught as he saw _it_.

Up in a corner sat the most beautiful _katana_ he had ever laid eyes on. It's sheath looked worn and grimy, but just from the leather work and binding on the hilt he could tell this was no ordinary sword.

_"_That catch your eye, dude?" The man said, coming over. "We just got it recently. Some old guy sold it just the other day. Said something about the sword wanted to be _here_. What a fruitcake!" The guy snickered.

Switzerland didn't bother answering, he just dug in his pocket for his wallet. If that sword was what he thought it was, he _very_ much wanted it.

OOO

He had checked and re-checked by the finest experts in Switzerland, ones he could trust to keep their mouth shut and they were positive. It was the legendary _Honjo Masamune_.

He could not believe his luck. To have found that _blade_ at a pawn shop right in DC? What were the chances? One of the most valuable historical artifacts to have gone missing since the end of World War II had just fallen right into his hands.

It was a blade with no equal. One that completely disappeared after the Meijiro police in Japan handed it over to Sgt. Coldy Bimore of the US 7th Cavalry in 1946. As he sat as his home, staring at it, his mouth watered at the sheer beauty of it.

But for once it wasn't just the gorgeous weapon he was salivating over, it was the thought of how impressed Japan would be when _he_, Switzerland, gave it to him. _Would he smile?_

He knew what he was giving up by just turning it over secretly to Japan, but he would have given up his whole collection if that's what it took to make Japan happy. In all his life, he had never felt that way toward any nation.

_What is it about Japan that intrigues me? That makes me want to come out of my shell?_

And while the thought was great. Even noble, the logistics were the fucking problem as always. When he wasn't admiring the blade that was laid on his wooden coffee table, he was staring at the phone on the night table.

_It's easy. Just make the damn call. Don't be a fucking pansy! If America can make it look like 1-2-3 you can..._ He groaned. No, he couldn't. It was almost midnight, the moon was rising outside and he had not done shit in five hours of trying to coax himself into calling Japan.

_It's just a phone call_.

But it wasn't, not for Switzerland. This was Japan and his only chance to win points with him. He could almost cry from how paralyzed he was at the thought of trying to talk to Japan. _Why do you have to be so shy about this?_

Here he was with the discovery of the century lying on his coffee table and all he could do was stare. _Hi-la-ri-ous_, his mind taunted him. He picked up the blade, unsheathing it, he held it up, admiring it. It was 64.2 centimeters long exactly. The blade itself shimmered as if made of crystal but could cut paper in half with ease. Hell, he was half-convinced he could castrate a gnat with this.

He touched the blade, running his thumb light and winced. "Shit," He grumbled, slicing open his thumb. He sucked on it and scowled at the blood on the blade. Now he'd need to polish it again.

_Brilliant as always_. He was just about to get up when an inscription appeared on the blade. He blinked unsure if he was seeing things, but as he held it into the light. There was no mistake. It was in old Japanese but Switzerland had studied everything under the sun about Japanese culture. He had his hobbies

"Ye," He said, some of it he couldn't read, but he translated what he thought he understood. "...who holds this blade of ages, thine wish shall bend back time." _Okay, so maybe I can't translate_.

The blade began to hum and throb with energy, shaking in his hands. "The hell?" He cried, grabbing the hilt with both hands, trying not to drop it, suddenly he felt yanked. Brutally jerked off his feet and everything became a blur around it.

He yelled as suddenly he found himself falling several feet through the air and landing right in a large body of cold water. He sputtered and spit out the icy stuff, his long blond hair stuck in his eyes and he couldn't see.

His face was buried against something soft and squishy that was kind of warm. It almost felt like flesh. Something smelled like lotus blossoms. He froze, realizing he was up against someone's chest. Yanking back his wet locks, he gaped up at Japan. He was in Japan's lap in some kind of lake.

Japan had long hair that was in a top-knot and the top of his head was bald. _That's really old school_. That wasn't the only remarkable thing though. First off, Japan was naked and bathing in the lake. Second, Switzerland was in his Japan's lap. Thirdly, Japan was blushing head to toe and looked about two seconds from murdering Switzerland.

"You...You...," Japan snarled, his whole body trembling with rage.

_Oh shit_.

**AN **

This takes place in the Sengoku Era. The time of the Warring States (for you Inuyasha fans). It was one of the most bloody periods in Japan history and it only ended when Ieyasu won the battle of Sekigaha in 1600 and soon after brought all of Japan under his rule. He was declared _Seii Taishogun_ and his shogunate would rule until the Meiji Restoration when the samurai were driven to extinction.

The _Honjo Masamune_ is a real blade, one that went missing when it 1946 it was handed over to Sgt. Coldy Bimore. It disappeared after that and has not been seen since. It could very well be gathering dust in some pawn shop in the US.

The blade is a National Treasure that is MIA. It is considered one of the finest _katanas_ ever made and there is a lot of mythology around it and its maker. You should take a look at its fascinating story. Quite remarkable.

This was a gift for Miss Macabre Grey. I hope she likes it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

_He's an asshole_.

Switzerland never thought he'd think of Japan, but then again, this wasn't the Japan he _knew_. This one was savage, cruel, and devious. _And maybe a little sexy_. No, he banished that thought.

Japan rode on a grey horse with Switzerland trailing on foot behind him, a coarse, straw rope around his neck attached him to the leather saddle of Japan's horse. Ever now and then Japan would tug on it or kick his horse to go faster just to mess with Switzerland. Switzerland could do little. His wrists were bound together tightly by another coil of rope, one that was also rubbing the skin raw.

Japan's behavior and altered personality were not the only odd things. Japan now looked like a walking, talking museum piece from the _Sengoku_ Era, the time of the Warring States.

Japan had on a helmet or _kabuto_ as they called it in Japanese. One truly from four hundred years ago. It was made of steel and lacquered black with plates fanning out at the back. At the front were two gold horns that stuck out at the sides and in their center was the chrysanthemum. _The Seal of the Emperor._

Japan's chest was covered by solidly riveted clamshell cuirass of the same lacquered steel as the helmet with a skirt plate to match. There was a second plated skirt beneath that and it went to his knees, but was split in the middle for riding. Around his shins and forearms were smooth, non-lacquered steel plates with ivy designs welded into them. On his hands were leather gloves while on his feet were leather boots that turned up at the tip.

At Japan's hips were two blades, a _katana _and a smaller mini-_katana_ known as a _wakizashi_. The main one though was none other than the _Honjo Masamune_ and though Switzerland had always intended to give it to _his_ Japan, he needed to look at it again. That blade had done something. Too bad this Japan didn't give a shit about helping him and had nearly killed him earlier.

The bigger question was what the hell was going on. Japan not only wore equipment from over four hundred years ago, he even spoke in an older form of Japanese. If it wasn't for the fact that nations had a knack for understanding each other no matter the language, Switzerland might have been at a lost.

The sun was getting low and it would be nightfall soon. Switzerland was looking off at it when the rope around his neck was jerked brutally forward enough to send him into the dirt path, scraping his cheek.

"Bastard!" He growled in his own language. He rolled back onto his feet, glaring at a smirking Japan who slipped off his horse and strolled - almost ambled - over.

"What was that green-eyed demon?" Japan all but spat, "You dare speak in your filthy tongue before me?"

Switzerland bit his lips to restrain himself from telling the bastard off, but Japan's smile only grew. _He smiles like the devil!_ _And no it is not sexy!_ He chided himself again.

"Ah, that look of loathing," Japan chuckled his face becoming impassive, a glint of mirth in his eyes. A thought was in Switzerland's mind. An explanation he refused to accept and yet no matter how he looked at it unless this was an elaborate practically joke - in which case there would be some nations beaten up - that maybe he _had_ gone back.

_That's crazy! But how?_

Japan cocked his head to the right, studying Switzerland, he said, "Now demon, will you tell the truth?" Switzerland remained silent and quick as lightening, Japan punched him in the gut. He sunk to his knees, all breath leaving his body as he sucked in air that the world felt out of suddenly. "Perhaps I was wrong to spare you earlier. Perhaps you crave death?"

Switzerland raised shaky eyes up to Japan who reached for the hilt of the _Honjo Masamune_. "Answer me now or die, demon," Japan hissed, his eyes merciless. For some reason, Switzerland's mind flashed back to what happened this morning.

OOO

Japan shoved Switzerland off, grabbing a blade off a nearby by rock, he had it at the European nation's throat an instant later. "You _dare_ attack me demon!"

The look of hate and venom in his eyes was so shocking that Switzerland for a moment was rendered speechless. _Did he just call me a demon?_ _Japan is holding... the Honjo Masamune to my throat?_ It was the blade. The blade Switzerland had been holding minutes before but now Japan was crouched in a fighting stance, holding its hilt with both hands, its tip at Switzerland's throat.

_Am I dreaming?_ It felt so real.

"Answer demon!" Japan warned, "Who sent you?"

"Japan?" The blade pressed hard enough to draw blood and now Switzerland felt himself getting angry. _What the fuck?_ How was this fair. It also made him realize this couldn't be a dream but that wound actually hurt. "I wasn't sent. I fell."

"Liar!" Japan growled, hardly mindful of how naked he was. Switzerland did his best to keep his eyes on Japan's. _Focus you idiot! He means to kill you!_

"Japan, why? It's me. Switzerland," He said, holding up his palms in surrender.

"_Sweetzalandu?_" Japan tried to say, but his mouth didn't for the words. "Don't tempt me with your demon tongue. You are _demon!_ A green-eyed beast of hell," He spat, "I should slay you now."

"Christ, Japan why?"

Confusion flitted over Japan's features, "Why do you keep calling me that?" Switzerland had actually been calling him _Nihon_ as they were both speaking Japanese. He was confused as well. _Why wouldn't Japan recognize - wait._ It hit him. "You're name is _Yamato!" _

Japan flinched, his eyes widening, and he hissed, "How do you know that name?" That was silly because that was the original name of Japan, but he knew what Japan actually meant was, _How do you know that's my name?_

"Because I am like you! I am a nation too!"

"I am no nation. I am one of the gods of this land."

"You think you're a god?" The blade pierced his skin lightly, making another wound. He leaned away, but not too far. He didn't dare move. This Japan was dangerous.

"I _am_ a god under the Emperor," He stated, studying Switzerland. Nation? Is that what you demons call yourself?"

"I'm not a demon," He insisted, ignoring Japan's dark glare. Now he was getting it. Sometimes nations that were born isolated and alone would not correctly understand what they were. The First Nations like Ancient Egypt had gone through that. Most of them were long dead now, but they had passed on their stories. The Italian brothers had told Switzerland more than once how their grandpa for the longest time thought he was a god of drinking. The birth of a nation was a confusing time for nations. Switzerland had been lucky to have a mentor explain it to him, but Japan may not have been so lucky. It was surprising how little he really knew about Japan and disheartening.

"You must have met other likes us. You have met...," He trailed off, scrambling for the older names of China and Korea. "_Chin and Chosen!" Bingo_!

"You know of the higher one and the monkey?" Japan said, lowering his sword and continuing to stare suspiciously. _Monkey? Ouch._ If he remembered his history right, Japan at this time greatly admired China and saw their country as the pinnacle of civilization while they heavily looked down on Korea.

"Yes, we're great friends. Chin and I," He lied.

"Liar! The higher one does not associate with demon dogs!" The blade came back.

Switzerland felt sweat beading on his brow, but the thought fast, racing through his history, he had an idea. "You're right. He was too good for me," Switzerland said, "So he sent me to you."

"What do you mean?"

"You were his _wakashuu_, right?" Japan colored and lowered his sword, looking away in embarrassment. _It means apprentice, right?_ _Why is Japan getting embarrassed over that?_ It was nice to see Japan getting embarrassed over odd things hadn't changed.

"He told you?" Japan said, swallowing hard and then almost to himself he said, "I have heard rumors of men with strange faces landing on the shores of Kyushu. Tell me do you know of these far away lands?"

"Yes," He said, assuming Japan meant Europe. The ships were beginning to reach Japan as this time period.

"I suppose they have gods too," Japan mused and his dark expression returned, "Demon, I will tie you up and you will not resists. If you dare, we'lll see how well the gods of your land last without a head. Understood?"

Switzerland nodded, deciding it was best to go along with this for now until he had a better idea what was going on.

OOO

Now he was on his knees glaring at Japan.

"We shall camp," Japan announced. "But before we set up, I want you to explain something. A question I've been brooding over."

Switzerland said nothing and Japan continued, "You said the Higher One sent you to me. Why did you appear before him?"

"Fine, you got me," Switzerland admitted, deciding that he might be able to get the ropes off if he took a gamble. "I-I... came to be your _apprentice_ like you were for _Chin_."

Japan's whole expression changed and he looked astonished, then a slow smirk crept his the left corner of his mouth. "Did you now? You came to apprentice to I?" He chuckled and then cupped Switzerland's chin, turning his face side to side. _What is he doing?_

"Yes, you would _do_," Japan noted. Switzerland's blush grew as did his puzzlement. _Did I make a mistake in the translation_. "I have never had a _wakashuu_ before. You seem a little old though."

"One is never too old to learn," Switzerland countered. Despite his research into swords, armor, and martial arts, he had focused very little on the culture of samurai.

"You are correct," Japan relented. "I accept your offer."

He turned around and began taking off his armor, setting each down with great love and care. Switzerland was puzzled. _Don't we need to start gathering firewood or something?_

"What are you doing?" _Why are you undressing?_

"You are my apprentice. We shall follow the ways of _nanshoku_. I am your _nenja_ and you are my _wakashuu_," Japan explained, throwing off his black undershirt. Switzerland's cheeks heated up. _He couldn't mean_. "Now lie down and I will undress you my _wakashuu_ so that we may consummate our bond of warriors."

"Wait, what?" Switzerland guffawed. This was too much. His whole body flushed warm as Japan became naked before him. "You can't mean!"

"You are my apprentice, my lover now," Japan answered, setting his blades aside as he knelt in front of Switzerland. He grabbed him by the back of the head and forced their mouths together.

Switzerland's eyes bulged as his lips were thoroughly kissed by those soft, sweet lips he had so dreamed about. Yet, unlike his fantasies, they were not soft and gentle. They were fierce and demanding. Blood went south as his mind scrambled to deal with what was happening.

**AN**

Japan later codified the rules of how men could perform homosexual activies. When a samurai took an apprentice (almost aways a pre-adult boy) he would be the boy's _nenja_, his mentor, and the boy, his _wakashuu_, was to submit out of love and affection to his master who would top.

After the apprenticeship ended, the relationship was supposed to stop. Over time, some samurai did continue their relationships though. The rules were also specific. _Nenja_ on top and _wakashuu_ on the bottom. NO EXCEPTIONS. This sexual relationship was supposed to be make the two close and allow for a bond of life-long loyalty. The _nenja_ was to protect, train, and guide their apprentice in the ways of the warrior.

These relationships were very exclusive. Neither was to sleep with other men while the apprenticeship was going on, BUT sleeping with women was acceptable. Needless to say there were some Samurai who liked to pick out pretty boys.

In the Tale of Genji there is even a reference to this when Genji is spurned by a certain lady so Genji instead sleeps with her younger brother.

The scene reads, "_Genji pulled the boy down beside him... Genji, for his part, or so one is informed, found the boy more attractive than his chilly sister._"

The name for China was originally _Chin_, but its complex and debatable since China's name was based on who was ruling it at the time. _Chosen (Cho -sen_) was the original name for Korea, but NEVER call it by that name now.

That name is now associated more with the meaning, "Japan's former colony" than "Korea".


End file.
